


Not Entirely Alone

by Skyebo6



Series: Welcome to Wellington Wells [1]
Category: We Happy Few (Video Game)
Genre: Arthur needs a hug, Blood and Injury, British, Father-Son Relationship, Forgiveness, Friendship, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Memories, Near Death, Scottish, kind of fluff, pain and sadness
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-16
Updated: 2018-08-16
Packaged: 2019-06-28 06:56:31
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 3,064
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15702138
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Skyebo6/pseuds/Skyebo6
Summary: Injuried and on the brink of death after an explosion on the bridge out of Wellington Wells, Arthur worries that he will die alone.In which Arthur seeks comfort with Ollie, worried he will have to say his last goodbyes.





	1. On the Collapse

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Arthur stands on the bridge, shaking and on the brink of tears...

_An explosion..._

The bridge. 

He had been so close, he could taste his freedom. 

He stood, baffled as the waves rippled beneath the newly formed cliff. 

_It had collapsed._

He knew it, he **fucking** knew god was punishing him. Tears already in his eyes as he silently cursed to no one in particular. A man who had given up his life to see the truth that so terribly hurt him. 

Why did he even want to remember?  
_You were comfortable_  
Why didn’t he just take his Joy?  
_You were happy._

His shaking hands found their way to his face as he slowly removed his glasses as he lowered himself to the ground.  
He decided something he hadn’t even imagined doing in years.  
He wept.

He wants so badly to forget,  
He knows he cannot.

Arthur Hastings was alone in this world now, no joy could ever help him forget that fact. He couldn’t go back to the Parade, he knows they would welcome him back with open arms.. but he just cant.. not anymore.. 

_I would sure like to see Sparky again..  
I suppose that will never happen now._

He was lost in a world that no longer made sense. A betrayed, battered and broken man.

He hadn’t realised the blood, nor the pain in his left side, he was too distraught.  
It wasn’t until a small pool began to form that Arthur was brought back to his senses, which was soon followed by a wave of nausea. He had always been squeamish.

It wasn’t until he started upright that he felt the pain. He wimpered and slowed his movements, knowing one slight move would send him into a wave of agony.

_A bandage! .. yeah a bandage would do just nicely! He thought._

His hands were still shaking, he begins to wonder if it’s the sadness or the pain that is causing it.  
Either way it did him no help whatsoever, he thought of it as a nuisance as he crudely wrapped the bandage around him. Somewhere, deep down, he knew that this would not help, but Arthur is forever a man of hope and sarcastic optimism.

He has to keep going,  
_For Percy._

He clears his mind to focus on one thing, shelter. He needs a place to go. Walking through town like this would be a death sentence in itself, if he could just run to the nearest shelter he would be able to rest for a couple of days while he heals,  
He halted his thoughts,  
_If i heal..._

“Bloody hell...” he grumbles as he stands, supporting himself on what little is left of the bridges railing as he begins to make his way towards town.

He doesn’t think of the regrets or the anger that are currently trying to worm their way to the front of this mind, “Focus” he whispers, he knows it’s becoming more difficult,

In the end it’s the back alleys that manage to take him to his destination. But he all to quickly realises he is going to die with a lack of proper care.

This isn’t how he’d imagined it at all.

As he walked through the tunnels, his anxieties grew. He could practically feel his muscles begin to slack and numb, his legs becoming more like lead with each step and his staggering breaths sending pain through his ribcage. He began wondering if this is how he really wants to go out, alone without a word or anyone to wish him a nice journey.. or even a small ‘Cheerio!’

He’d be gone,  
Without seeing Percy,  
Without being around his family,  
Without saying goodbye to his friends.  
Without telling Sally how very sorry he is, even if he’s not overly fond of her..

Then he remembered.. one person he could visits, who he went to as a child, who would take care of him as one of his own, and who has also lost everything.

“Ollie!” He exclaimed, and began hurrying down the tunnel towards the Garden District. He could make it, he could, no, he WOULD not be alone.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! I thought i’d write a few of these, seems like the fandom hasn’t kicked off yet.
> 
> Hope you enjoy!


	2. Falling Petals

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> He keeps going, until he simply cannot.

He didn’t make it, he couldn’t.

Finally losing all feeling in his legs, they buckled underneath him and he came painfully crashing to the earth below him.

Face down in the grass, his vision began to blur, he’s impressed he made it this far..

He feels the burning of his lungs as each breath becomes harder and harder to take in, his diaphragm spasming in small hickups as he tries to let in the oxygen he so desperately needs.

He whimpers, he knows it’s the end,  
_How could it not be?_

He tilts his head to the side, taking in one last sight of the world he so desperately wanted, no, NEEDED to stay in, and he whispered as the wellies say all too commonly, “this is beautiful..”

He didn’t hear the heavy footsteps, nor feel the hands turning him over, or hear the gasp that came shortly afterwards.

Instead he drifted into a dark seemingly endless abyss...

============================== 

Quickly turning a corner, Ollie raised his shovel and quickly smacked it down on one of the wasterel’s heads with a sickening _crack-_

Boy how he loved this lifestyle.

“Sorry! I didnae see ye there Lad!” He chuckled happily. Ollie Starkey was a funny fellow indeed, one of the few scotsmen in Wellington Wells and completely out of his mind. Like Arthur, he held many regrets, it drove him rather mad actually.

Still he was happy where he was, especially with Margeret. His guilt caused him to endlessly try to make it up to the young girl, even though he knew he never could.

Stealing scotch from the man’s body, Ollie continued onward towards the small fortress’s kitchen. A man needs to eat after all..

The kitchen was surprisingly void of people, “Jackpot” he whispered happily and let out a devious laugh, this was easy!

As soon as he began filling his bag, a swift punch caught the side of his head. He dropped his belongings and entered straight into combat mode. He didn’t have time to grab his weapon, so he used his fists. Punching his attacker square in the jaw knocking him to the ground. Ollie was relentless after that and began pummeling the man even after he was unconscious. 

Now covered in a fair amount of blood, Ollie resumed filling his bag, humming a happy tune as he went along.

Him and Margaret would have a feast tonight, “I bet she’s proud of me” he spoke to himself, a smile on his lips.

Walking back to the train station, a dark yet clear night, he admired the stars. They reminded him of times long since passed and he began to miss his old life. The sleepovers where he would tell the kids what each star was named, or show them what constellations they made up. Arthur had been most interested in that..

_I’ll miss that wee laddie.._

His thoughts turned sour and melancholy.. he resents the world for what it has done to him and the many lives it has torn up. Wellington Wells was a prison he doubted anyone would ever escape from.

To him, nobody deserves that...  
Except the bastards that flung them all in there!

He began cursing a storm in his mind, a man of many a moodswing.

His footsteps soon slowed as he heard a thump as something hit the ground just ahead of him.

_I didn’t do that, did i?_

He crouched and made his way closer, there lay the crumpled form of a man, arms stretched out as if he’d mad e a pathetic attempt to catch himself, glasses slightly above his head, askew. 

He lowered his eyes to the bandage and realised he had most likely bled out, theres no way a wound that big would be stopped by a flimsy bandage. He looked frail, skinny and almost white.  
Was he even alive?

He shrugged, the man’s clothes were way too pristine to be a wasterel, which means he must be a wellie... which means,  
_He might have something useful on him!_

He began searching the man, turning him over to reach his pockets until..

He gasped.

Oh god  
_Oh god  
Artie.._

“Artie!” He blurted  
“ARTIE!” He was panicking now.

He looked dead.  
Ollie leaned down, his ear to Arthur’s mouth in an attempt to listen for breathing and placed his hand on his chest to feel the rise and fall. He heard a wheezing noise, his chest was low and stuttering. 

_But still alive._

_Oh Artie.._


	3. Pick-Me-Up

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> What he calls ‘Home’

He slapped him, not angrily or out of malice, it was the panic that had settled in his stomach.

It probably wasn’t the best idea. But it had to do something.

He tried again.

A small gasp excaped Arthur’s lips, he slightly opened his eyes, even that proved to be a lot of effort.

His voice was confused. Weak and cracking, almost a whisper-

“O..olli...” he drifted back into unconsciousness.

He tried again.

Little Artie never responded.

“Please Artie wake up!” He realises this is useless. He needs to act.. and fast..

He removed his jacket and wrapped it over Arthur’s middle.

Gently, he slid his arms under Arthur’s legs and his back and lifted him. He felt...

_Fucking hell he feels like a bloody feather!_

_Artie.._

He studied the man. The dried blood on his lips, his face stained with tears and bruised at the chin, yet his face betrayed the pain he was likely in.  
It wasn’t a happy face,  
It was peaceful.

Ollie shifted the man’s glasses into his upper pocket for safekeeping and began hurrying his way home.

He kept his eyes on the wound the whole way there.

=============================== 

Arthur began to stir..

He smells food, a similar smell to when he..  
Wait... where was he..

_Wait a minute..  
Ollie!_

Arthur darted upright, something he regretted as a sharp pain coarsed through his side and he just as sooner collapsed back onto the pillow.

This alerted the older man, who was soon over rubbing his hair and saying soft, soothing words to calm him down.

Arthur stared back at Ollie’s worried face.. he wonders how he got here.  
He had no memory of the journey..

He was pretty sure he wouldn’t have made it..

Suddenly, a hot spoon found its way into his mouth and Arthur jumped back, the temperature had burned his toungue. He yelped, his voice still quite weak, “OW- fucking hell- Ollie!”

“Oi! Watch your mouth young laddie before i take my hand aff yer face!” Came the reply, still as headstrong as ever.

He sighed and put the bowl of stew down, he decided he’d leave it to cool before he tried feeding Arthur again. “Look lad, im sorry. I just.. ye just..”

He trailed off as his expression hardened and gave another big sigh before finishing. “How could you scare me like that laddie!”

He seemed almost pissed..  
_Almost._

“You show up bleeding in the middle of nowhere! Who did this tae ye Artie! I’ll kill the fucking rat bastards that dared tae even mess wae ye! I nearly went out of my mind!” He exclaimed in anger.

Arthur sat dumbfounded at the outburst, Ollie had given him mixed feelings when they last had spoken. But now he’s experienced something he hadn’t in a long time.

_Care.  
Somebody cared about him!_

Arthur didn’t know what to say..

“I-“ he started, only to be cut off abruptly.  
“What? No Margeret, it will be too-... alright fine, you’re right I’ll give it to him.” Arthur raised an eyebrow as ollie started digging through his belongings. 

He pulled out a bottle of rubbing alcohol and sat in the seat next to Arthur’s bed.

“Listen Artie, yer wounds they got a little..infected.. I noticed when i was patching ye up...” he trailed off, allowing Arthur to put the pieces of the puzzle together.

Realisation slowly dawned on him,  
“Oh good christ.. i-im not going to like this one bit.. am i?” He hesitated.  
“No young laddie, probably not.” Ollie replied. “Now lad, lets get this food down ye before we get started.”

Arthur never wanted to eat slower than he did at that moment.

It hurt to swallow, he would grimance with every spoonful he realised. He figured his throat must still be raw from the long walk he had taken back. This alone was enough to send him into a coughing fit.

Ollie sat patting Arthur’s back, he figured that Arthur had reached his limit with the food and once again lay the bowl at the bedside.

He manages to sit up with Ollie’s help and they both remove the bandage, the wound was free of blood and now looked like a giant gash, green was laced where the skin had split and Arthur suddenly felt very faint.

As Ollie started applying the rubbing alcohol, Arthur could do nothing but stifle his whimpers with the back of his hand, it started off as a slight sting, but quickly shot up to an intense agony.

He doubled over, clutching his side as the pain racked through him, gasping for air.  
He couldn’t breathe.  
_Why couldn’t he breathe?_

He could hear someone pleading, “Please lad hold on.. just a wee bit longer.. Artie..” he couldn’t hear what the person was saying.

He realised he could hear screaming as he blacked out, he didn’t realise it was coming from himself.


	4. I Care

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Arthur and Ollie remember the past.

When he awoke it was dark, the cozy kind of dark. All that illuminated the room was the various oil lanterns and wax candles scattered around the room. He sat up, the pain was much duller.

He groaned, _at least this was manageable.._

Arthur could just make out the form Ollie reading in his armchair, humming a happy little tune. He finds his glasses and quickly puts them on, he can see that ollie has a peaceful look on his face.  
He decides he wont disturb the man’s thoughts, and hoists himself up into a sitting position with a little effort.

His brain rattles at a hundred miles per minute, he has too much to worry about to enjoy the moment of peace.

_What am i going to do? How will I ever find Percy? Should i go back to the Parade District? Oh bloody he’ll Arthur how are you going to explain this one to Miss Byng... what am I going to say? Im back from holiday? Yeah im bloody sure she... actually that might work..!_

“You know, when i saw you that day... when we went to the bunker.. everything came back to me.” Arthur was pulled from his thoughts. He looked up to see Ollie still staring at his book.. _Was he even reading it?_

“Ye were just a wee lad.. I remember you and your brother would run past my door every day.”

“Ye both made a bloody racket! Feet stomping around outside all hours of the morning. You were lovely wee lads, you and Percy.. “ he hesitated “I remember the day those feet were replaced with Sally’s..” he sighed.

Arthur grimanced at the thought, he’d forgotten his brother rather early on, hadn’t he?

Ollie began laughing,”I-“he broke off into chuckles, “I remember when you and Sally would wreck my house! Like the time you threw the firecrackers into my oven.. nearly gave me a heart attack!” This earned a soft laugh from Arthur, they both remember the good times.

Arthut started “A-and that time me and Sally crashed through your fence!” He giggled, “you had us fixing it for a week!” Both men were in hysterics.

Arthur began wiping the tears from his eyes, it’s the first time he’s truly smiled from his own emotions in years.

After a few moments of merriment, Ollie grew quiet, eyes falling as though he had remembered something. “I also remember... when you and Percy would show up.. poor lad” it was as if the room had sobred up.

Yet Ollie perked up a fond smile, “You would come scarpering back from school and show up at my door. Ye probably don’t remember much about your time with Percy.. do you?”

Arthur looked at the bedsheets and shook his head. Percy had been the one thing the Joy had made him forget the most.

“He was a smart lad, wouldnae speak to anyone but you. You’d always come tae me for help when he ran intae trouble at school, wee lad was too scared to tell his mother he’d been beaten up. You used to cover for him and tell him you’d played too rough with him!” Arthur let out a sad little chuckle, he felt more tears appear in his eyes,

But an entirely different kind.

Ollie moved to his side and stuck his arm around his slouched form.

“You two were like two peas in a pod you know..” He offered

Arthur scoffed, “that just makes what i did even worse.. he-... he trusted me!” He let the tears fall.  
“We were both going on the train, we were going to look out for each other!”

Ollie pulled him in for a hug, it had been a long time since both he and Arthur ever had a hug... Arthur accepted it willingly and cried as Ollie held him and began humming songs of better times long past.

All Arthur could do was listen.

Only after what felt like an eternity, and Arthur had settled down, Ollie finally spoke. “Promise me laddie, promise me that no matter what happened or what will happen, you’ll keep going. Ye have tae lad, even for a short wee while live your life again. Ye had friends in Wellington Wells did you not? I heard yer name fae many people.” Arthur looked up at him uncertain, but nodded at his question.

“Go back to them, please laddie trust me. Leave the dirty work to the old farts like me, I promise you Wellington Wells will turn around one day, we will be able to leave someday.”

Ollie looked solemn, he hesitated before saying, “I promise you that too Margeret”

Arthur knew what he had to do, he had to live. He never wants to touch joy again.. he wants a life.

After a long nights rest, Arthur bid his goodbyes to Ollie and made his way back to the Parade.

He was going _home._


End file.
